Before the Fall
by Wottabout
Summary: This is the story of Rakka’s life before she became a Haibane, told from the perspective of the boy who traveled over the wall to forgive her.
1. Chapter 1

This is the story of Rakka's life before she became a Haibane, told from the perspective of the boy who traveled over the wall to forgive her. This is the first fanfic that I've felt was good enough to put on here so constructive criticism (emphasis on CONSTRUCTIVE) is appreciated.

Chapter One: Friendship/ Bruises/ Talks By The River

I first met her when I was in nine. I had just moved to a new town, and was looking to make a friend. She was there, so I decided that she'd be my friend. After a week in the new school, I met more people, but I always made room for her.

The girl didn't have a lot of friends, but I don't think that I realized then how lonely she was. It wasn't pity that made me want to be friends with her; it was just that she hadn't turned me away, as some other kids had. She told me later that she had become my friend for the same reason. Her father had died when she was seven, and she'd pulled herself away from the world. By the time she returned to her life, everyone else had pulled away from her.

My mom didn't approve of my new friend. She told me to stay away from her, and refused to drive me to her house. So I decided to walk. The girl's house was a mile away, and to get to it I had to cross a bridge that passed high above a wide river. At first I was scared of falling into the water, but after a while I got used to it, even stopping to take in the view of the raging water far below.

The house itself was little more than a glorified trailer, but I rarely went inside anyway. We would play games in the woods near her house. I only met her mother once. The girl didn't say anything mean about her mom, but when she talked about her, her eyes would sometimes get watery, as if she was about to cry, but she never said why. She rarely said unkind things about other people. I don't think she even let herself think such things. She blamed herself instead when people were mean to her. I got the impression that her mom was mean to her a lot.

In middle school, I started seeing bruises on my friend's arms and legs, but I never said anything. A rumor traveled through school that her mom was beating her up, and I wondered whether it was true. After all, she did seem sad when she talked about her mom. My classmates knew that I was her friend, and they wanted me to ask her what had happened. I refused, but I can't say that I wasn't curious myself.

One day, I paid her an unexpected visit and found her hiding in the woods, hitting herself in the stomach and arms. It looked silly, but I could tell that it hurt. When she noticed me, she muttered, "I talked back to my mom. I made her mad." As usual, I didn't say anything about it. I never said that it wasn't her fault, or that she didn't have to hurt herself because of other people's cruelty. Perhaps I should have.

We didn't have many classes together in middle school, but we talked more than we had before, often while sitting on the bank of the river. We'd try to talk about normal things, like movies and classes, but those conversations would peter out, and she would eventually say what was really on her mind.

"Who do you think would go to my funeral if I died?" she asked once, out of the blue. The question startled me.

"Your mother would," I said. After a bit of awkward silence, I added, "I would."

"Promise?"

"Yeah. Of course. But you probably won't die for years. Hopefully not until you're really old."

"Yeah," she said. "Hopefully."

She stared into the distance, and I wondered whether that was really what she hoped for.

A/N: More to come later if people like this chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two . . .

Chapter Two: Summer/ The Change/ Confession

The summer before we started high school, something changed. We had agreed to meet each other by the river after school ended on our final day of middle school. I got there before she did, and while I waited I sat looking at the water, savoring the idea of three months without any obligations. Of course, summer wouldn't really be like that. I'd start soccer camp in three weeks, and my parents insisted that I practice my saxophone so that I would get a good place in the band in high school. But for those few moments by the river, I could imagine that every day of the summer would be as carefree as I felt then.

I saw her biking down the road, her brown hair streaming behind her. She smiled and slowed down. She ran down to meet me.

"I have a good feeling about next year," she said. "It'll be like starting fresh. I'll try hard to be more outgoing and I'll get better grades, and everything will be perfect. I just know it."

I laughed and said, "I hope you're right."

She laughed too, and then she started to sing. She had a beautiful singing voice, although she didn't like to perform in front of lots of people. She always sang when she felt happy or hopeful.

She sang a lot that summer. She didn't talk about death, and she didn't come close to tears every time she mentioned her mom. Her bruises faded, and I wondered whether she really was becoming a different person.

We spent most of our time by the river. There was a walnut tree that grew near the water. She loved that tree. It gave us shade during those hot afternoons, and we looked forward to the fall when the nuts would be ready to eat.

Then high school started. I saw her laughing with the other girls and yelling out answers in class. It seemed that she had really changed, and I was glad for her. But although she was loud and friendly at school, when I saw her by the river or in the woods by her house, she seemed much sadder and more withdrawn. Our conversations became almost nonexistent. I still met with her after school sometimes, but it wasn't like it had been before. I wondered whether we were still even friends.

Finally, she told me, "My new friends don't want me to hang out with anyone except them. I'm sorry."

Then she asked me to stop meeting with her after school. I left, and it hurt. I heard later that her group of friends had been saying mean things about me. I supposed that she really was a different person.

I didn't talk to her again until the last day of September. I'd been kicking a soccer ball in my back yard when I saw her running toward me, sobbing. She hugged me, and I held her awkwardly.

"I was just trying to make things work!" she exclaimed. "I was trying to smile and make people like me, but it was so fake! I didn't mean to hurt you! I fooled myself into thinking that I'd made friends, but I'm just as alone as I've always been."

Her voice cracked as she finished. Tears continued to stream down her face.

"What do you mean?" I replied, startled. I didn't know what had happened to make her act like this, but I guessed that her new friends hadn't been that great after all. I knew that I had to comfort her. "You aren't alone. I'm with you. I'm still your friend."

She gave me a wan smile as she said, "That's a nice thing for you to say, but I know that it was just pity that made you my friend, and then I pushed you away for people who didn't even care at all. I'm sorry that I wasn't worthy enough for real friendship. I'm so sorry! I realize now that you were just being nice, and I'm sorry that I never paid you back for that. I . . . I didn't deserve it. When I came into this world, it was a mistake. I just caused people pain. I should've been kinder to my mom when my dad died, and now she's hurt forever. Maybe if I was erased from the past, she'd be a happier person. I wouldn't have been there to hurt her, or you. I've ruined everything."

With that, she ran off down the road, and I lost sight of her. I looked for her in all the usual places, but I couldn't find her anywhere. It was as if she had disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: The Bridge/ God/ The Jump

I was relieved when I saw her at school the next day. She seemed fine, talking to her friends like usual, but I wondered whether it would be a good idea to tell someone what had happened. What if she tried to do something awful?

The day passed like any other, but I had trouble concentrating. What if she decided to run away? Or worse?

After school, I rode the bus home. I did my homework. Then I did my chores. Then I practiced my saxophone, which I hadn't played as much over the summer as my parents had hoped. Finally, I stopped and knew that it was time to stop putting it off.

The area near the river was covered in fog, but I saw my friend immediately, standing on the edge of the bridge. She was staring into the distance, but she spoke to me without turning around.

"If I die, do you think that God will let me go to Heaven? I know that I have done things that were wrong. Most of them were things that were in my mind . . . horrible thoughts and doubts. But when my dad died, I blamed my mom. I hit her and said mean words to her. She yelled back at me, and it was what I deserved. After a while, she wasn't herself anymore. She didn't care as much anymore. She forgave me for hurting her, but I can't forgive myself. But after that, I met you, and although I tried to be friendly, I ended up hurting you, too, for my own selfish reasons. And even though I am sorry, I know that that won't be enough.

"Will I go to Hell for the things I have done? If I know that my sins were wrong, do they still count? Could I still go to Heaven?" she said into the fog.

Then she laughed, but there was no humor in it. I almost said something, but she continued talking.

"But I guess that just by thinking that proves that I haven't really recognized my sins. If I knew in my heart that I had done wrong, then there would be no doubt in my mind that I deserved to be punished for them. If I die right now, then I'll know, won't I? Then I won't be wondering anymore."

I knew that I had to say something, but I wasn't sure where to start. There were so many things left to say. Would she really . . . ?

Finally, she turned to look at me, and I saw her tear-streaked face.

"I'm so sorry. I really am. You're a good person, and I shouldn't have hurt you by pushing my problems onto you and making you worry. I won't be a burden anymore," she whispered. Then she added, so quietly that I almost didn't hear it, "Don't cry for me. It won't matter. Just forget about me. Where ever I go, I'll be getting what I deserve."

Then she climbed onto the railing of the bridge, and she jumped. She vanished in the fog, and I knew that at this height the water wouldn't cushion the fall. It would be just as bad as falling onto concrete.

I only spared a moment's hesitation. Where ever she went, I had to go there too. I needed to say to her all of the things that I never said, all of the things that I should've said during those many awkward silences. All of the things that she had been waiting for me to say, even if she hadn't realized it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Falling/ The Well/ Awakening

As I clambered over the railing and plummeted toward the water, I didn't think about how stupid I was being. I just remembered that I needed to give my best friend the forgiveness she deserved. She would never forgive herself, but I could forgive her. It all made sense in that moment. In that moment, it seemed like the most important thing that I would ever do.

The fall last only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. When I finally hit the water, I just kept falling, and the fog around me suddenly wasn't fog anymore. I was surrounded by clouds instead. Just as suddenly, I no longer had my human body. I was a bird, and the odd thing was that I felt no surprise. It seemed obvious: the bird was the only thing that could follow her, so I was one.

I took control of my fall and dived down to find my friend. I found her, and she was falling unnaturally slowly. She cradled me in her arms. I tried to slow her fall, to lift her back up through the light barrier, but even she knew that it was impossible. I let go, and she left the clouds. I watched her falling toward a town. I had to go there and give her the message.

I had lost most of my memories, but I knew that I had to follow her and forgive her. But then she vanished. I didn't know where she had gone, and I didn't have the energy to fly around looking for her. I couldn't think very well, but the idea came to me to find a place to wait for her to come to me.

An area in the woods below drew me. I alighted on the edge of an empty well and peered inside. I didn't feel safe out in the open, so I flew down to the bottom. I knew that my friend would find me, and then everything would be alright.

I called to her in my mind. It was hard, but I knew that it was what I had to do. I had to bring her to me and give her my forgiveness.

Every time I called out, it took energy from my body. It became weak, and I knew that it would be a good idea to fly back across the barrier in the sky while I still had the strength, but I just waited at the bottom of the well. I had to complete my mission.

Eventually, my bird body died and started to decay, but my soul stayed in the well, and I kept calling. Finally, my efforts paid off.

I could feel her coming closer. I could tell that she had suffered a loss, but I knew that it would pass. She was happier in this new town, whether she knew it or not. She had been given a fresh start during high school after all. But it was a real fresh start, without all of the anger and hate of her past life.

I gave her my forgiveness, and she mourned for me and buried the bird body. That act released me from the well and let my soul fly back up to the sky and through the barrier. And I woke up.


	5. Chapter 5

I would like to apologize to anyone who was feverishly waiting for the next chapter. I have several excuses lined up, but most of them involve the words "I forgot," so I won't bother with them. Anyways, here's the end of the fanfic:

Chapter Five: Moving On

I knew that I was in a hospital. I recognized the disconcertingly clean hospital smell. My whole body ached. I decided to rest for a bit longer.

I slept dreamlessly for what felt like days. When I woke again, I asked a nurse how long I'd been there. She smiled warmly.

"You've been at the hospital for twenty-seven hours. You were found unconscious on the bank of the river. Can you remember what happened?"

I ignored the question.

"My friend . . . did you find her, too?"

The nurse's smile disappeared.

"I'm not sure if I should tell you . . ."

"She's dead, isn't she?" I asked.

The nurse nodded, averting her eyes. She didn't ask again what had happened. I guess she knew that I wasn't in the mood to answer questions.

There was an awkward silence, and then the nurse said, "She's probably in a better place now."

"I know she is."

A few days later, they let me out of the hospital. They told me that I couldn't play soccer for a while, but it didn't seem important anymore.

There was an article in the paper about the suicide. I hadn't told anyone anything, but her fake friends were all too eager to talk about how sad they were and how they had had no idea that she was that depressed. It made me wonder whether my friend had been a good actress or if people had simply not wanted to see her pain. There was stuff about me in the paper, too. It said that I'd been so traumatized when I saw her jump that I'd tried to kill myself, too.

People gave me odd looks in the hallway at school, and every one of my teachers told me that if there was anything I needed to talk about, they were there for me. Even my friends did the whole I'm-sorry-for-your-loss-if-there's-anything-you-need-just-ask routine. But I never let myself cry. I knew that she had simply gone somewhere else. I didn't want to cry when my friend had just been given a new life. It would've been selfish for me to cry, because I'd just be crying for my own loneliness.

My parents didn't want me to go to the funeral, but I couldn't be dissuaded. After all, I had promised that I'd go.

It was surprising how many people were there. There were several teachers and kids from school, along with many people I didn't know and I was sure my friend had never known. It was rather ironic. She had jumped because she didn't want to be remembered, and here were all of these people she didn't know, mourning for her.

I stayed in the graveyard, even when everyone else left. Finally, after the sun had set and I was sitting in darkness, I let myself cry.


End file.
